


Birthright

by orangeblacktea



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bending, Clarke the Burninator, Clexa, F/F, Lexa loves kicking people, Surprise! - Freeform, Titus is a literal Flame Keeper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeblacktea/pseuds/orangeblacktea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Clarke, air was precious, fire was dangerous, water was scarce, and earth was something that she would never see in her lifetime. Mastering all four elements should be an easy task</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down in Flames

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-verse The 100 re-imagined and altered with Avatar/bending lore. Multi-chapter.
> 
> Clarke Griffin is a terrible Avatar.

“Again, Clarke.”

Polis was cold. One of the coldest winters yet, according to many of its citizens. Yet Lexa insisted on pacing evenly around Clarke, barking corrections to her poor fighting form. Clarke carefully slid one foot backward on the snow-covered ground and locked her arms against her waist.

Lexa eyed Clarke’s current stance. “Inhale.”

Eyes tearing and lungs burning from the freezing temperature, Clarke took in a deep breath and sought the energy that swirled in the pit of her stomach. It grew and flared, she felt it it down to her fingertips. But then she saw her father, piercing blue eyes and heavy brows furrowed in disappointment.

She felt her energy flicker.

Clarke exhaled sharply, far too soon for this particular form. She hoped Lexa didn't catch her folly, despite watching her like a hawk. Lowering her stance, she wound her arms in a wide arc, and stopped at her abdomen. Clarke then closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, lifting her hands to follow the motion. But the moment she closed her eyes, she thought of Mount Weather. Of all the lives that were taken. She saw blistered skin and mouths open in silent screams.

She gasped as her eyes snapped open, and the building energy dissipated like the flames of a candle snuffing out.

Lexa closed in immediately--faster than Clarke could see--dropped low, and swept her off of her feet with a swift kick to her ankles. Clarke felt the air rush from her lungs the moment her back hit the ground. She glared at Lexa’s stoic expression above her.

“Your stance is weak.” Lexa stepped backwards to allow Clarke to struggle to her feet. “Your breathing is not controlled.”

“I’m trying.” Clarke coughed. The hours of training were beginning to weaken both her body and resolve. Her borrowed furs and heavy gloves were doing little to block out the cold, though Lexa seemed quite content in her fur-lined leather coat in place of her usual armor and sash. “This is our seventh run-through of the same exact firebending form. I’m starting to think the weather is messing with my--”

Lexa rooted her stance, then thrusted both of her arms with a sharp exhale to release two jets of blue flame. Clarke ducked instincually, but gratefully absorbed the brief moment of heat that Lexa produced.

“The weather is not the issue. There is no excuse.” Lexa straightened her stance and watched Clarke’s expression curl in distaste. “You refuse to properly root yourself and you are not centering your breathing. Power in firebending comes from the breath. Breath becomes energy in the body--”

“--and the energy extends past the limbs and becomes fire. I _know,_ ” Clarke huffed. “You’ve only repeated yourself a hundred times.”

“And I will repeat it one hundred more until you understand it.”

“Maybe I’m not _meant_ to understand, Lexa!” Clarke slammed a booted foot to the ground and swung her arms behind her to clear the snow surrounding them on the training grounds. Lexa’s intricately braided hair fanned behind her. It was the only sign that she was bothered by Clarke’s aggressive, if not juvenile, show of waterbending. Otherwise, Lexa did not move, nor did her stoic expression change. It frustrated Clarke more than she cared to admit. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me and there’s no sign of improvement!”

“Fire takes patience and control, Clarke.”

“Are you saying that I lack both?”

“Yes.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes and spun on her heels to walk away. “We’re done here.”

“By walking away, you're proving me right.”  

“No,” Clarke spun back around and stormed within inches of Lexa. “You, of all people, do _not_ get to chastise me on walking away.”

Lexa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, only opening them once more when she felt the fire burning in her chest die down. “You’re right, we’re not doing this. Because you’re using my actions of the past to justify your frustration about your lack of skill.”

“You know what?” Clarke snarled. “I’ve gotten by just fine without any of your help before. Having you teach me was a terrible idea.”

Lexa raised a brow and folded her hands behind her back. She held her chin high, resolute. “Flailing your arms and hoping that an element will bow to your will, is _not ‘_ just fine.’” She took a step forward. “You use bending on pure instinct and necessity with the minimal and very far removed spiritual connection you have with your past lives. Any success you’ve had with bending in the past is pure luck, Clarke.” Lexa took another step forward. “You know I’m right.”

“Maybe getting my hand forced is how I learn. Maybe I’m someone that survives out of necessity.”

“Someone once told me that life should be about more than just surviving.”

Clarke deflated at Lexa’s words. “That person was delusional. And was left to fend for themselves--forced to _survive_ \--not long after.”

“The past doesn’t change the fact that you’re in dire need of bending discipline.”

Clarke’s eyes hardened and she lifted her chin defiantly. “You can go float yourself, Lexa.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes. Clarke had said the same phrase to her before. It was clearly an insult, judging by the venom in her tone.

“Like I said...we’re done.” She glared at Lexa for several moments, daring her to protest. When she heard nothing in return, she backed away before turning to leave the training grounds.

Lexa watched, dangerously still, long after Clarke disappeared from sight. Her fists were still clasped tightly behind her back, and her eyes, unblinking. As snow began to fall, each flurry that touched her skin vaporized with a hiss. The longer she stood, the darker her gaze became. As she spun on her heels to follow the familiar path to Polis Tower, she failed to notice the once snow covered training ground was now filled with thick, rolling steam, and glowing red footsteps left in her wake.  

 

* * *

 

 

_Clarke was 6 years old when she saw fire for the first time. It was a blurry experience filled with loud alarms, foam suppression systems and her mother’s grim expression._

_“Fire is destructive by nature, Clarke!” Hands gripped tightly around Clarke's shoulders. The muffled sound of guards barking orders around them almost drowned out her mom’s panicked whisper. “You can never, ever let this happen again. Everyone's life was in danger.”_

_“But I...mom, I don't know how--” Clarke was crying and hiccupping between each word. “Wells, he--he made me so mad a-a-and then there was f-fire and there was smoke and w-we couldn't breathe and--”_

_“Clarke.” Her father’s deep voice was comforting, even as he knelt down to eye level with a serious expression. “It’s not your fault.”_

_Clarke sniffled. “It's not?”_

_“It’s not?” Her mom echoed. Clarke missed her father’s exasperated look._

_“It's not,” He repeated firmly. “Listen to me, fire is key to survival. But for fire to survive, it  also consumes something very precious to us on the Ark. Do you know what that is?”_

_Clarke stumbled over her words between sharp breaths. “Air. Fire t-takes our air.”_

_“When it is not controlled, fire takes--it consumes, and rarely gives,” Her mom added._

_“Clarke-” Her father’s tone grew even more serious. “This is why it is very, very important that you learn to control your anger.”_

_“But-”_

_“Clarke,” His voice reverberated through her chest and she immediately fell silent. He pointed to her heart. “Anger consumes, but does not give. It's okay to feel. It is important to feel. It's how you know when to do things that are right. Do you understand?” He waited for a nod before he continued.  “But never, ever let your emotions be in charge. Your heart and head? It's important that they work together, kiddo. You need balance. What makes you special depends on it.”_

_“Jake Griffin,” A gruff looking guard appeared at the door. Her father stood immediately. “The chancellor wants to see you.”_

_Clarke watched as her dad knelt down once more and kissed her on the forehead. Her mom knelt down next to her as well._

_“Does the Chancellor know?” She heard her mom whisper._

_Her dad shook his head. “Unlikely...”_

_Clarke scrunched her face. Does Chancellor Sydney know what?_

_“Sooner than later, Griffin!” The guard barked._

_Her dad ignored him and instead murmured, “If anyone asks you how the fire started, tell them your dad said a wire shorted out, okay?”_

_Clarke's eyes widened, then whispered back. “Dad I--I saw fire come out of my….hands…”_

_“Honey,” her mom murmured, gently pushing the bangs from her forehead. “How did the fire start?”_

_Clarke eyes darted between her parents for a moment before nodding, resolute. “My dad said a wire shorted out.”_

_Her parent’s breathed a sigh of relief._

_Clarke's hands shook and her heart raced. Fire is dangerous, she repeated in her mind. Clarke forced her arms down and gripped tightly at her shirt. She bit her lip until it bled to stop the onset of tears._

_Never again._

_She decided at that very moment that she never wanted to see fire again._

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa flung open the heavy doors of the audience hall with the concussive force of concentrated heat and a flurry of blue flames. Her steps were controlled, but only the force at which her boots struck the floor betrayed her irritation.  She was followed closely by Titus, only pausing to dismiss the guards before taking his place beside her throne.

“She is stubborn,” Lexa hissed between her teeth the moment the door slammed shut. But rather than taking her rightful seat, she began to pace the floor. “She is hard-headed. Foolish.”

“We had a solution to this, Heda. If you just allow the Spirit of Raava to reincarnate as we discussed--”

The candles in the room flared as Lexa’s eyes flashed towards Titus.

Titus ducked his head to acquiesce.  “And because you dismissed the notion, she must be trained until she masters fire. You carry the flame, and you are aware of this responsibility.”

Lexa folded her arms behind her back, though her pacing did not cease. “She is temperamental and lacks restraint.”

Titus dropped his gaze to her feet, noting the scorched footprints on the stone floor. “Clarke of the Sky People is not the only one that lacks restraint.”

Lexa’s darted her eyes to the floor, then turned a glare to her advisor.

“Calm your mind, Heda. Your spirit is strong, but your will must be stronger.”

She stiffened her shoulders, though she softened her glare. “Give your counsel.”

Titus folded his hands in front of his body. “You are a prodigy, Heda. Even as a child, your skills were unparalleled. Your firebending abilities are no different. In months, you’ve mastered techniques that should have taken years to perfect.”

“And Clarke?” Lexa questioned softly.

“She is no prodigy.”

Lexa let out a puff of air that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, though her facial expression did not change.

“The Avatar, the person who carries the spirit of Raava...must master the elements in order to restore the world’s balance. They are said to be naturally astute and spiritually proficient, however…any knowledge of bending from her past lives may very well be lost in time, just as our knowledge is broken.”

Lexa tightened her hands into fists.

“This requires patience; a luxury we do not have. Heda, I know you care for her—”

“I also care for the safety and protection of our _people_.”

“—but your leniency is unfit for the greater good.”

Lexa began to pace once more.

“Heda, you must be prepared to push her beyond her limits. It is the only way.”

“I don’t believe that is the only way.”

“She must be broken--”

“I will _not--”_ Lexa snarled as she whirled to face Titus. The candles flared blue along with her anger. “I will _not_ break her.”

Titus stepped backwards, surprised and wary at the rush of Lexa’s power.

“I will not break her. Not again.” Lexa swore it just nights before.

Several moments of silence passed before Titus dared to speak once more. His voice lowered. “Forgive me, Heda, but you were trained this way.”

The candles flickered as Lexa let out deep breaths to calm herself.

_Maybe getting my hand forced is how I learn. Maybe I’m someone that survives out of necessity._

“One must be broken to be built stronger.” Lexa muttered the words that have been ingrained since birth. She sighed, “ _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim._ It is our way, not hers.”

“Perhaps it should be.”

Lexa fell silent.

“She is destined for balance and peace, Heda. These are things that could not be appreciated without chaos and suffering. There are times when a forest must burn to thrive.”

Lexa’s demeanor was calm and her expression, deceptively neutral. She paced up to her throne, only to whirl and pace back towards Titus in three quick strides.

“There are times where a flower must be nurtured to bloom.” Lexa narrowed her eyes and watched, pleased, at her advisor’s visible swallow. “But Clarke is neither a forest, nor a flower.” She walked back to her throne and sat at its edge. “Clarke must decide what is best for herself.”

 

* * *

 

 

Just outside of the audience hall, Clarke pressed her back against the wall and sank to the floor until her knees pressed against her chest.

_“Clarke must decide what is best for herself.”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“The council is suspicious, Jake.” Clarke heard her mother's hurried whisper from the dining area. Though she continued to scribble out drawings with her crayons. Even at her young age, Clarke had already mastered the art of discretion. “They're asking questions, and I can only field them for so long.”_

_Clarke heard her father's deep sigh. She could almost imagine him scratching his late evening scruff in frustration. “So tell them.”_

_“They’ll label her as a threat and you know it.”_

_“Maybe if we just explained--”_

_“Explain what, Jake?” Her mom was growing agitated. “The gifts that make Clarke special...they'll never understand it. All the council sees are variables and risk factors. She’s young, impulsive. And there’s only so many accidents that can be swept under the rug.”_

_Clarke gripped her crayon until her knuckles whitened._

_“That's the exact reason why we should speak to the council. As she gets older, she’ll have more control--”_

_“The moment they figure out bending is no longer...no longer just a bedtime story, they’ll either toss her in a lab or lock her away.” Her mother sighed. “I hate the thought of both.”_

_Her father fell silent. She heard the bed creak, and imagined her father lowering himself heavily onto its edge._

_“Whatever purpose she might have…whatever reason she reflects the Avatar...” Her mom muttered after a moment. “Will be all for nothing if she’s floated for being an unknown variable.”_

_“So what is best for Clarke?”_

_There was a long pause. “I don’t know, Jake.”_

_Clarke closed her eyes, trying to settle her nerves at the thought. She felt cold, and stamped down the energy that was so desperate to rise to the surface. She hated bending. Clarke pressed her forehead against the table and inhaled to fight the onslaught of tears._

_She hated bending with all of her being._

  



	2. The Beginning

_6 months ago…_

 

Lexa heard the blow to her own jaw before she felt it. Her ears rang, and light exploded behind her eyes, but the pain was forced deep into her chest, and she only allowed it to course through her veins rather than hinder her.

The pain fueled her.

She ducked to avoid the second swing of her opponent’s staff, then yanked herself backwards to avoid the third. Her fingers sparked, but she stamped down the energy that itched to protect her.

It wouldn't be a fair fight, after all.

She shifted her back foot, grounding herself, before administering a powerful kick to her opponent’s thigh. The moment they fell to their knees, Lexa delivered two sharp blows to their jaw, then knocked them backwards with a kick to their chest.

Lexa maneuvered the staff outside of her opponent's reach, then raised her leg with every intention of crushing their sternum, but they rolled out of the way just as her boot slammed to the ground. She gave chase, and with two quick strides her foot connected to her opponent's side with a satisfying crack.

Broken ribs, she could only assume.

She shifted her stance then swiftly kicked her opponent in the jaw, immediately silencing their grunts of pain. Just moments after, their movements ceased.

_“Hod op, Heda.”_ Titus’ voice steadied her, though she had no intention of continuing. She won the moment her opponent fell unconscious.

She was renowned for her self control, but reputation didn't change the fact that the sun was at its peak and Lexa couldn't help but bathe in its energy. She was breathing heavily, yet far from winded. Her blood pulsed, and her entire body buzzed with unspent adrenaline.

Lexa was on a high, and in its fleeting moments, she reveled in it.

Titus was speaking in low, instructional tones to the _natblida_ who watched the fight with rapt attention. But Lexa was not listening, blood was pounding in her ears and her muscles spasmed in anticipation of her next fight.

**_“Breathe deeply, Lexa.”_ **

The voice was not a voice at all, but a single thought that she was certain, not her own. It was a form of communication that she’d grown accustomed to since her ascension as commander. Lexa’s lips thinned, and her voice remained low, steady. “I’m in control.”

**_“Outwardly.”_ **

Lexa turned her back to the audience while clenching and unclenching her fists. “You’re here to bring me a message, _Pramheda._ ” Her voice was low, just above a whisper.

Several moments passed until she received an answer that vaporized the energy pulsing just below her ribs. The chill that remained crawled up her spine and stiffened her limbs.

**“** **_Earth’s energy is shifting._ ** **”**

The tone was ominous enough to cause Lexa’s hitch in breath. “Explain.”

**“** **_Spiritual energy is increasing at an unprecedented rate. You sense it._ ** **”**

Lexa flexed her fingers, remembering the thrum of energy just moments before. She assumed the burst in energy was from the high sun--a normal occurrence with past commanders who could also bend fire. But a feeling bubbled just below the surface that she didn't bother to analyze. Despite the temporary feeling of invincibility, she felt restless.

Unsettled.

“Its cause?”

The thought seemed to hesitate, **“** **_Energy of this magnitude predates myself by several hundred years.”_ **

“And its cause?” Lexa repeated. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Becca responded with a single thought, and after a moment of confusion, Lexa spun on her heels and turned hardened eyes to Titus. He was already stepping cautiously towards her, as she was certain he had been observing her body language throughout the entire exchange.

“ _Heda_ \--”

“The spirit of Raava?”

Titus froze. His face, ashen, and his voice, broken. “What did you just say?”

A flash of bright light and a deafening crash in the sky halted any further questions. Lexa ignored the panicked cries and eyed the streak of fire and smoke until it disappeared beyond the tree line.

It looked like a missile, a known horror from the Mountain that her people have experienced far too many times. But--she narrowed her eyes at the trail left among the clouds--the object hurdled to the ground directly from the sky, not unlike a falling star, and nowhere near _Maunon_ territory.  

Several tense moments passed before another, much more muted, crash sounded throughout the field.

The world stood frozen for a precious few seconds, then something in the world shifted. Lexa felt it immediately. It was a wave of spiritual energy so overwhelming that it took every ounce of strength not to fall to her knees.

The vein from which she drew her power was forced open, and what was comparably a trickle of energy became a downpour.

She clutched at her own chest, she felt like she couldn't breathe.

Titus was by her side in an instant. She felt the world spinning.

Torches surrounding the training ground roared to life and debris and clumps of dirt floated just above the ground. Blades of wind raked across the field, and water from an early morning rainfall writhed and curved in midair.

But just as quickly as the havoc began, the elements settled, still and suddenly content. In that moment, Lexa's knees buckled, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Then all she saw was darkness.

* * *

Clarke’s connection to the ground was undeniable.

The colors and sounds, the smells...the _warmth_ of the earth, surrounded her; consumed her. She took in the feeling of the sun, and the bright blue sky. The trees were a vivid green, and the grass beneath her feet sparkled with morning dew.

She remembered her jail cell, much like the rest of the Ark, filled with muted colors; drab grays, worn metal floors, and stains of charcoal of her own doing. She remembered the constant hum of machinery and the comparably stale air.

Clarke cautiously dug the heel of her boot into soft soil, and reveled in the deep thrum of energy at the contact. She inhaled, deep and slow, and ignored the burn in her chest due to her greedy intake of fresh air. The tips of her fingers tingled like electricity, eager to touch, eager to feel what she thought she would never see in her lifetime.  

In her heart, Clarke felt like she was complete. She felt like she was home.

In her mind....Clarke narrowed her eyes at the whistles and cheers from her shipmates. The 100 of them were supposed to be dead. Clarke glanced solemnly towards the dropship, ninety-eight, at least. She observed the excitement around her and noticed no signs of nausea or sickness, nor any telltale signs of physical degradation that would reflect high amounts of exposure to radiation. This information was not adding up. The earth was supposed to be uninhabitable for at least another hundred years. But maybe the symptoms would take some time to appear.

They were delinquents after all, expendable. And the Ark was desperate for a solution.

At the thought, she pushed aside the initial exhilaration at being on the ground. There were more important matters. She eyed the metal band on her wrist and the map clenched in her fist. Communication to the Ark was down, but they were still alive. Survival should be their top priority.

* * *

“The people that fell from from the sky-- _Skaikru_ proves hostile, even among their own.” Indra was by Lexa’s side by the next morning. She was hovering, a hint of worry in her eyes, but still hardened and focused. Essential information of a potential threat took priority over Lexa’s health. “They are invaders of _Trigeda_ and will be treated as such unless ordered otherwise, _Heda._ ”

“How many?” Lexa clasped the Commander’s Bearing across her chest, and a swell of annoyance itched at her neck. She woke up, startled, moments before Indra’s arrival, only to realize she wasted several hours in recovery. Lexa was still piecing together the events that occurred just before she lost consciousness, and she actively ignored the electricity running through her limbs at every movement. She felt her energy flare and pulse just beneath her ribs, itching for release. Her body felt warm, her clothes, restricted.

Something changed, and Lexa felt more powerful than ever before.

“No more than one hundred.”

Lexa tightened her jaw. “Their numbers may be small, but they are not to be underestimated.”

“Understood. We will wipe them out before they become a threat.”

Lexa turned sharply towards Indra, motioning that she should be followed. “We must also assume they are not alone. Not for long.”

“Scouts,” Indra narrowed her eyes, trailing after Lexa through her chamber doors and out to the main hall. “For a greater army.”

“And slaughtering them may only expedite their army’s arrival.”

“Let them come. They would be no match for our warriors. With the power of the coalition--”

“This concerns _Trigeda,_ not the coalition, unless you allow the invaders to go unchecked.” Lexa warned. She waited for Indra’s sharp nod at the corner of her eye before she continued. “Stay close, observe.” Lexa paused and closed her eyes, recalling _Skaikru’s_ arrival to earth just hours before. The back of her neck tingled.

She mapped out the flight path, the borders of the clans in the coalition, and the boundaries of the _Mounon._ She remembered the trail of smoke in the sky and compared it to the missile of the mountain. Images of strange drawings on blue paper flashed behind her eyelids. Her eyes snapped open. “Keep them constrained. They must not cross the border to _Mounon_ territory. An alliance is possible if any form of contact is made.”

“And the fog of the mountain?”

The fog--Lexa inhaled sharply. The fog has killed more of her people than she would care to imagine. Lexa folded her hands behind her back and continued to walk. “ _Skaikru_ are invaders. Assuming they have no knowledge of this weapon...allowing the fog to lessen their numbers will be to your advantage.”

She didn't see Indra’s lips stretch into a smirk. “I will ride at once to inform my warriors.”

“Before you leave, Indra.” Lexa eyes fluttered at the memory of Becca’s warning and the immense spiritual energy that followed the fall of the Sky People. She remembered the erratic behavior of the elements, and the thoughts that were not her own; the whispers of _the spirit of Raava._ “Do not let your guard down.”

Indra narrowed her eyes, puzzled by Lexa’s cryptic message. But she nodded sharply, nonetheless.

Lexa watched Indra until she disappeared down the hall, and stood for several more moments to inhale deeply. She lifted a hand to eye level and gathered the latent energy pulsing just beneath her skin into the palm of her hand. Lexa exhaled, and to her astonishment, the flame that roared to life burned bright blue.

* * *

Octavia, the girl who was not supposed to be born, was ambushed in a river that was not supposed to exist, by a creature Clarke had never seen.

Such a strange turn of events.

Clarke panicked. She was full of adrenaline and her heart pounded in her chest, but her mind accelerated. The creature needed to be distracted, and when she zeroed in on the boulder at the river’s edge, her fingers tingled and she couldn't explain why.

“Help me!” She shouted to no one in particular. She couldn’t move the boulder on her own, and the heavy grunts of Monty, Jasper, and Finn, proved that it was near impossible. But Octavia was screaming and thrashing, Finn was yelling, Clarke's spine was stiffening, and before she realized her own actions, Clarke was kicking the boulder with an unimaginable amount force into the river.

The moment did not register with most--hardly even Clarke--as Jasper was diving into the water to pull Octavia from the river, gasping for air with a heaving chest. She caught Finn staring curiously in her direction moments later, but she swallowed and quickly looked away, not quite understanding why she wanted to avoid the question at the tip of his tongue.

Maybe it was a question that she was not quite ready to answer.

* * *

Bioluminescence was the first word to pop into Clarke’s mind to describe her surroundings. The disconnect between her mind’s logic and utter disbelief at the sight of illuminated foliage caused her heart to pound wildly in her chest. The others were fast asleep, but the ambience of the night kept her wide awake. She felt a consistent thrum of energy just beneath her skin and her fingers twitched, eager to explore an environment she was unable to appreciate during the day.

Mind made up, Clarke stood and inched her way deeper into the forest. Her fingers trailed along rough bark and dusted shimmering leaves. She knelt to pull tufts of grass, and watched in awe as the breeze scattered its blades. A patch of flowers growing along a fallen tree trunk caught her attention, and she stumbled over roots to take a closer look. Earth Skills taught her that different regions of the world were filled with many amazing and unusual things, but she never could have imagined seeing it with her own eyes. This forest was an anomaly, most likely a result of mutation, though it did nothing to detract from the beauty of it all. Her fingers hovered just over the flower petals.

“Pretty cool, huh.”

Clarke jerked her hand to her side and snapped her head towards the voice beside her. Finn was there with a cautious smirk and a large, curved leaf brimming with water. She relaxed her shoulders and took the offering with care. “Did you go to the river?”

“I figured it was worth losing a finger or two.”

Clarke’s smile came surprisingly easy. She took a large sip of the water and couldn’t help but to close her eyes at its sweetness.

Finn was silent for a moment. “Clarke.”

She turned to him with an expectant look.

“You’ve heard of the Avatar legend, right?”

Clarke coughed then laughed, though the pitch in her tone wavered. “Haven’t we all? I remember hearing it as a kid, but I didn’t really pay attention to it.” She took a sip of water, then glanced to the nearest tree. “Figured it was nonsense.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more serious...” Finn settled on the nearest log and motioned for Clarke to follow suit. “Want a crash course?”

Clarke hummed noncommittally and settled herself on the log as well. Finn took the water leaf and took a long sip before laying it beside him.

“Well the Avatar was supposed to be this super powerful...being, I guess, that could control, or bend, all of the elements--”

“Air, water, earth, and fire. I remember that much.”

“Right. And way before our time, I’m talking hundreds of years ago, some people like you and I could control elements, too. Only one, per person, though.”

Clarke stared down at her hands. “Right.”

“The Avatar? Their job, supposedly through a _very_ intricate reincarnation process, was to keep peace and balance in the world. Fight the good fight. But eventually, bending became a forgotten art. Between the advancement of technology and government peacekeeping efforts....well, there really wasn’t a need for an ‘all powerful’ Avatar anymore, was there? They’ve vanished ever since. Poof.”

“Don’t tell me you actually believe these stories,” Clarke huffed. Her knee bounced unconsciously.

Finn stared at the ground until his silence grew stale.

“Finn?”

“Have you felt anything...strange since you’ve been on the ground?”

Clarke swallowed and pushed down the energy constantly pulsing just beneath her skin even further. The feeling has only multiplied since she’s been on Earth. “Other than constant anxiety? No.”

They both fell silent to take in the sights and sounds of their unusual surroundings.

“The answer is yes.”

Clarke looked at him, startled.

“I do believe it.” He grabbed the large leaf beside him and held his palm out to balance it on the tip of his fingers. “I'll show you why.”

At first, the leaf barely moved. It rocked back and forth, an effort that could easily be passed off with the night’s breeze. Clarke rolled her eyes. “Finn--”

Finn hushed her. “Just a moment.”

The leaf rocked again.

Clarke swallowed.

Then, as if tethered to an invisible string, and a burst of wind sourced from Finn’s palm, the leaf began to steadily rise.

* * *

Lexa felt Earth’s balance shifting, though it felt more like a correction; like the cogs of a scavenged timepiece locking perfectly into place. The transition, however, was still unsettling.

The reports she heard from the coalition’s ambassadors have been interesting, to say the least. Within three days of _Skaikru_ ’s arrival, strong gusts of air suddenly appeared in villages on windless days, large waves appeared on still lakes, and great pillars of earth erected in villages without cause.

There were also reports of fire produced out of thin air; an ability that only a Commander was known to possess. Lexa experimentally curled a single hand into a fist and narrowed her eyes at the sight of white sparks dancing across her knuckles.

The people of Polis were startled by the change, and the people of her alliance began to challenge her leadership, much to Lexa’s irritation.

She stood from her throne and paced to the center of the audience hall, stopping only to widen her stance and take in a deep breath. With a strong exhale and a powerful thrust of her arm, blue flames erupted from her fist.

Lexa had never seen, or even imagined fire with such a color.

She held her position until the flames died down of their own accord, then moved to observe her palm carefully. It was the same as her red flames before _Skaikru’s_ arrival. There were no scars and no burns from the flame, just the pleasant tingle of released adrenaline and the lingering smell of sulfur.

Lexa had done this very same routine countless times since her ascension. Though now it felt natural, more effortless.

“ _Heda_ , the color of your flame--”

“Is the least of my concerns.” Lexa glared at her advisor standing quietly at the far side of the room. She all but ignored his presence since he entered the audience hall a few moments before. “Bending has spread among the twelve clans since _Skaikru’s_ arrival. My people are panicked, restless, and their leaders are understandably threatened by this sudden development.”

“And you believe the presence of the Avatar is the cause of this.”

**_“The Avatar: The human_** **_embodiment of light and peace through the connection with the Avatar Spirit, Raava. Record, 9,829 BG. Their existence has not been recorded for several hundred years,”_** Becca supplied.

Lexa turned on her heel and began to pace the room. Her thoughts swirled and melded with knowledge of both past and present. Merged with childhood stories of a master of all elements who represented balance and solidarity. And how the Spirit of the Commander had taken the mantle of ensuring humanity’s survival since the Avatar’s disappearance.

She paused to reach into the hidden pocket of the Commander’s Bearing and pulled out a flat, circular, wooden playing piece. She thumbed the lotus carved into its center, a habit she developed while listening to her mother’s stories.

“The Flame sensed the Spirit of Raava, and now I'm convinced that the Avatar is among the Sky People. I imagine that their arrival acted as a catalyst for bending abilities emerging throughout the clans. And perhaps...their reappearance serves a greater purpose.”

“You have put us on the path of order and balance without help from the Avatar.” Titus’s jaw tightened and his chin tilted defiantly. “Their Spirit abandoned this world long ago..thus ending their responsibility to it.”

Lexa met his eyes.

“You are the master of flame, _Heda._ ” He spoke his next words warily, “Though if what you believe is true, the Avatar is a being who is more than capable of challenging your leadership.”

“My leadership is already being challenged, Titus.” Lexa dragged her fingers along the edge of the nearest table. Her chin tilted towards the balcony, a lilt in her voice. “On that matter, the Desert Clan is currently in need of a new chief...and ambassador. Expect unrest along their border until I can appoint suitable replacements.”

“I assume--”

“Only assume that I meet my challenges with vigor. If the Avatar is among invaders, they will be treated as such.” Lexa allowed the lotus playing piece to slide to the palm of her hand. “If the presence of _Skaikru_ and the Avatar taints the order we've worked so hard to cultivate with chaos…”

Titus stepped backward in alarm when all the candles in the room flared blue.

“I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Stapphles and JT for putting up with my whining :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and don't hesitate to let me know how you feel about it!


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